Dominic (Made Men 8)

Realizing this, he muttered, “Maybe they’re right to stay away from me.”

The walk seemed to last forever, and by the time he made it to his class and took his seat at his desk, he practically fell down into his chair.

“Dominic, are you feeling all right today?” Mrs. Smith came over before class started and placed her hand on his sweaty forehead to feel if he was running a fever. “Should I call your father to come pick you—”

“No!” He quickly rubbed the sweat off with the back of his hand, trying to think of what to say. “I-I just forgot to eat breakfast this morning before walking to school, is all.”

Mrs. Smith studied him for a minute. He was thankful when she didn’t question him further. Instead, she went to her bag beside her desk then came back, handing him an unopened bottle of water and a box of candies.

“Sometimes my sugar likes to drop on me if I don’t eat a good breakfast. This will help, but don’t eat them all at once, okay? Just try to suck on some and tell me if you don’t feel any better before lunch. I could go to the cafeteria and see if I can get you something.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith,” Dominic said, as the bell rang and she had to get all the students to their seats.

It took everything he had not to down the water as he opened it and put the liquid to his lips. He made sure to only drink half, not wanting to alarm his teacher. Unwrapping the candy, it was like heaven when he tasted the sugary cherry piece. He let it coat his mouth for minutes, sucking on the flavor until it became tiny and his patience for not eating it had worn thin. He felt better instantly, as if the little candies were medicine to cure starvation.

All morning he ate the candies one by one until there were only a handful left. As the hand on the clock was about to reach lunchtime, he was afraid someone would steal his box of candy—after all the envious looks he got—so he shoved the foiled-covered pieces carefully down his little jean pocket, then threw away the box as they went out the door in single file.

Getting to the lunch room and smelling the food made his stomach growl all over again. He wish he had gotten up fast enough to be in the front of the line instead of the back, but he patiently waited until he got his tray of low-budget food and sat down.

It wasn’t his favorite school meal, but it definitely wasn’t the worst, and it definitely wasn’t DeeDee’s nasty cooking. He practically inhaled his chocolate milk and Salisbury steak with gravy mashed potatoes. He even ate his peas, though he thought they tasted like mushed vomit. He saved his little fruit cup for last, savoring it and not inhaling it like the rest, wanting it to wash down the gross food he had just eaten.

When their teacher came to pick them up at the cafeteria, she looked at his empty plate. “Did you get enough to eat, Dominic?”

“Yes, Mrs. Smith. I’m feeling better now.”

“Good.” She smiled at him sweetly before addressing all the kids. “All right, single file, please. It’s time for recess.”

Excitedly, all the kids lined up, but Dom didn’t care where he was in line this time. At recess, he always had to ask to play any of the fun games, like tag. They always let him play, but it was never fun because they let him win. Even if they were on teams, his team always won.

So, when he got outside today, he did what he usually did and played on the jungle gym by himself. Going up to the huge silver dome, he began climbing the bars to the top, to his favorite spot he liked to sit at. Going over the little curve, he saw a boy already sitting up top. He was about to sit on the bar where he was when the boy’s eyes went wide once he saw him. The kid hadn’t even given Dominic the chance to tell him he could sit there before he quickly moved, climbing back down the structure.

Maybe it was Dom’s fault? He could have tried harder if he wanted, he could have yelled out to him that he could sit with him, but he didn’t. Instead, he just kept his mouth shut and took his favorite spot.

At the top of his dome, he looked out at all the kids laughing and running around. Maybe I’m bad too.

“It’s your fault we lost!”

Hearing a boy yell right underneath him, Dom looked down to see a blond kid bugging Bristol, a girl who was in Mrs. Smith’s class with him.

“Nuh-uh! You threw the ball too hard at me! I couldn’t catch it!” The girl shook her head so hard her blonde pigtails swung in the wind.